


Children of the Barricade Who Didn't Last the Night

by uaigneach



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Death, Enjolras-centric, Everyone is Dead, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Gen, Hurt, Implied Relationships, Minor Enjolras/Grantaire, Pining Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaigneach/pseuds/uaigneach
Summary: He turned back to face the soldiers who were watching them with their guns raised. He stared at them defiantly once more before raising the red cloth high above his head. Then he closed his eyes as the gunshot rang through the air.





	Children of the Barricade Who Didn't Last the Night

**Author's Note:**

> so I don't actually know how any of them legitimately die so this is just how I picture it going. Sorry to all of those true fans who actually read the brick but i just don't have that time and I have so many exams.

He stood staring down the guns of 5 of the police who had destroyed the barricade. It was their final stand. They'd been the final barricade, only 10 men left.

They'd been so excited once the barricade had been made. They'd done it, and they were on their way to victory. But then with the reveal of Javert came their downfall. There simply wasn't enough of them to keep this up forever. They were outnumbered, and they were the last ones.

There was nothing they could do but surrender. But then little Gavroche - the small innocent child who should have never been involved past raising awareness in the first place - reminded them why they were doing this in the first place. Even he'd been prepared to give up, believing all was lost, but little Gavroche hadn't lost hope. Not even when the first gunshot rang through the air.

He'd been trying to gather ammunition. If they were going to go down, they certainly wouldn't go down quietly. But one of the soldiers on the other side must have thought that it would be a fun idea to fire a warning shot to scare the kid. When Gavroche wasn't deterred, they fired another shot.

This one wasn't a warning shot.

It had hit little Gavroche right between the ribs. He was a goner even before the third shot came. Despite the pain the little boy must have been going through, he continued to taunt the soldiers. Why he did so, remained unclear.

He'd seen his sister fall to a similar shot. Surely he'd known that the wound was fatal. But instead of faltering, that child had stared death in the face and laughed. He'd been brave up to the very end.

The third shot was somehow even louder than the other two. No one spoke or moved for a split second after Gavroche's little body hit the ground with a small thud. Then Courfeyrac was launching himself over the barricade and cradling his little body as Marius covered him. He ran back sobbing as he hugged the small body close to him. After that it was chaos and everyone was everywhere all at once. It was no longer a fight for freedom; only a fight to survive. They were so outnumbered, only a handful of them compared to the dozens of soldiers sent to subdue them.

It was a wonder that they’d survived as long as they had.

The next to go down was Combeferre. He had been covering Courfeyrac as he retreated with Gavroche’s small body in his arms. He’d hadn’t been shooting to kill, but the enemy didn’t offer him the same courtesy. He was too gentle to actually fight back properly, and so he was gunned down.

Bahorel and Feuilly had been taken out when the barricade had been blown to smithereens by the canons.

Joly’s ever present illness is what got him killed. He had been running with Courfeyrac while Combeferre had been alive to cover them. But the both of them had been cornered and stabbed until they fell. Not once had Courfeyrac let go of Gavroche’s corpse.

He’d fled along with all the others who hadn’t been taken out in the blast or the first wave to the one building that they weren’t being shut out of. They ascended the stairs as quickly as they could, but it was inevitable. The thunderous roar of footsteps following them as shrill orders were being yelled to the soldiers.

Bossuet, Joly and Jehan had all managed to make it to the upper levels with him. But a round of gunfire from below had quickly taken them out. Enjolras had backed into the corner by he window, desperately gazing outside for some form of escape route. Or at least a sign of the others. Praying that maybe some had survived.

He hadn't seen Marius. All he could do was pray that that mysterious man and the young Pontmercy would be able to survive this. He had someone waiting for him. A sweetheart whom he'd met only once. They'd tried to fool themselves into believing that Marius was indeed one of them. And he was. He had been.

But he never fully belonged to their world. He was always half in, never fully committing to either. But that was okay. It was what would help him live after this was all over. If he was still alive and not lying somewhere out in the streets amongst the sea of blood and bodies in the ruined barricade. He hadn't seen him since the barricade blew and they were all sent running.

He prayed that Marius would live to see the girl who had caught his eye.

Everyone else was dead. He knew that for sure. He'd seen them all fall now. There were only corpses and blood among the debris on the streets. The courtyard was silent, save for the sound of stomping feet and the occasional gunshot as whatever surviving man was killed. He was alone. He turned to face the stairs, knowing there would be no way for him to escape now.

He clutched the red flag in his hand tightly as he watched a small group of foot soldiers storm up the stairs and aim their weapons pointedly at him. He stared them down in defiance, if he was to die he would not die a coward.

But of course that’s when Grantaire chose to appear. And of course that’s when he chose to appear. Always one to appear at the very last second. Yet he was always faithful even though he didn’t believe in the cause. Enjolras hadn’t seen the foolish artist until everyone else was already gone. Grantaire looked horrible. He was covered in blood and he was holding the neck of a broken wine bottle. It was bloody, so that answered the question on how Grantaire was able to reach him. The battle was over, he’d been the last one left.

Him and the small group of soldiers holding him at gunpoint. Grantaire could have escaped. He could have lived to drink another day. But as he breached the top of the stairs he didn’t even take a moment to stare at the men who were blocking his path. He only had eyes for Enjolras. He stared at him as he dropped the broken glass and shoved his way through the mass of injured men.

He pushed through until he reached Enjolras’ side and then he stood there and stared at him for a moment, before putting his back to the wall beside the window. He was positioned slightly in front of Enjolras, almost as if he was trying to shield him.

“Do you permit it?”

His voice was so quiet that Enjolras was certain the soldiers couldn’t hear him. Enjolras spared the second to turn his head to the man standing beside him. Grantaire had been so loyal, and in his eyes he saw that he would be loyal to the end. He reached out and gripped his hand tightly looking him deep in the eye and only seeing adoration and sorrow.

He turned back to face the soldiers who were watching them with their guns raised. He stared at them defiantly once more before raising the red cloth high above his head. Then he closed his eyes as the gunshot rang through the air.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on the back burner for months. Thank god it's over, even if it sucks.


End file.
